<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>the gravity fic by jaembinn</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22391209">the gravity fic</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaembinn/pseuds/jaembinn'>jaembinn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>SEVENTEEN (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Open to Interpretation, Past Character Death, Please Don't Hate Me, References to Depression, Tragedy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 19:02:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,097</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22391209</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaembinn/pseuds/jaembinn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They're both a dimension away from each other, but Gravity keeps them stable. Eventually.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Jihoon | Woozi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the gravity fic</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>IT IS HIGHLY RECOMMENDED TO USE EARPHONES, AND LISTEN TO COLDPLAY'S GRAVITY WHILE READING AND PUT IT ON REPEAT. HEAVILY INSPIRED BY THE SAME SONG, THANK YOU COLDPLAY! </p><p>I know the song is a breakup song, but I had different interpretations about it and tried to make into a song fic. I hope you enjoy!</p><p>[ setting: year 2016 ]</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's been a long time coming.</p><p>After countless and sleepless nights of hard work, unused boxes of tissues, and clean sheets, this man wakes up with another peculiar vacuum on his big heart. He can't catch a glimpse to the right side of the bed, it's not good for him ever since his late grandmother told him that looking right and left after waking up will tire your neck. Not that he believes it entirely, though. But he takes a leap of faith for everyone he trusts, even for those who has flew out of earth leaving him behind.</p><p>He chuckles dryly, recalling his grandmother's taboo quotes as he stands up away from the bed. The sheets are always clean, it has always been clean for two years, no drool stains on both the two pillows nor white vulgar stains underneath the thick covers. The more he notices it, the more he cleans his bed quick and focuses more on what kind of breakfast he's having this morning. He's not in the mood to observe, we know that. His therapist told him that as well.</p><p>"Cornflakes," he answers himself in a hushed tone. A slight smile appears on his peach crusty lips, and he moves both his feet to bring himself into the bathroom. Now this, might not be his favorite part. He hates restrooms, bathrooms, anything with mirrors and damp rooms. He wishes he can have a smaller apartment room so that there won't be any big mirrors everywhere around him; or cheaper flats. But he knows he can't move into another residence. Something about this apartment pulls him close, but he doesn't despise it somehow, no matter how big the mirrors are in the bathroom or the closet doors. He doesn't despise how he feels relatively miniature in front of the never-ending bathroom mirror. He doesn't despise how silent it sounds like with only a single sound of the flowing water from the adhered tap on the sink and not with two sounds (he doesn't get why he has two sinks). He doesn't despise how his eyes travel down to the mug on the sink holding one worn-out toothbrush just standing like there's no owner while he's brushing his teeth. The more he notices this, the more he increases the pace of his brushing quick.</p><p>And when he's all done and clean, the man quickly takes a shower, does himself good in terms of job outfits, pours milk on a bowl of banana cornflakes he already chose from the cereal cabinet in the kitchen without perceiving the other expired Oreo cereal boxes, and walks out of his apartment to live another empty day.</p>
<hr/><p>"Here, sir."</p><p>He looks up from the files on his desk and is now aware of his assistant standing right behind the cubicle. Seo Myungho is his name, a friendly yet eccentric publishing intern from China that doesn't get to know the man better due to him not opening up more. Hell, he doesn't even know Myungho's Chinese name, but he couldn't care less. Myungho remembers telling him his own Chinese name to this closed mentor, and after these few months he finally gets it. This man can't remember anything except for his own job, files, and assignments. As much as Myungho admires him for it, he can't avoid the fact that it's unhealthy and his mentor might be hiding something behind all of this.</p><p>"Oh? What's this?" the man asks, retrieving the soft piles of paper on his hand and skims through for awhile.</p><p>"Uh, the manuscript from Mr. Byun, sir? The one that you asked me to bring?"</p><p><em>Ah</em>, he thinks. A friendly grin twitches on the man's lips, "right, right. Thank you, Myungho."</p><p>He continues noting things down on his files after sliding in Mr. Byun's manuscript on one of the jacket folders on the rack, a few clacking sounds on the keyboard and papers being flipped over and over and he looks up again, Myungho is still there.</p><p>"Do you need help, Myungho?" he tries to be subtle, and hopes for the best. He doesn't really want to sound mean.</p><p>"Oh," Myungho furrows his eyebrows, "you usually ask me for a cup of free coffee from down the lounge at four, sir. See? It's four in the afternoon already. Could be americano or doppio, but it would change every other day. I'm sorry if I'm bothering you, sir, but I just had to make sure."</p><p>The man on his seat hitches his breath silently, looking down on the scattered files on his desk and he clears his throat. Coffee? There's no coffee on his wishlist, but he puts on a reassuring smile, "Oh, yeahㅡ"</p><p>"Or unless.. you don't want me to?"</p><p>Myungho's words sound concerned after cutting to the chase, it's rather hushed and it feels like he doesn't want any other people in the office to accidentally eavesdrop. With that, the man decides quick. He doesn't want coffee. He doesn't want anything down his throat at this moment, and he hates it whenever there actually is.</p><p>With a genuine smile, he shakes his head and laughs, "Me? Not drinking coffee at four? Impossible. Bring me the americano, Myungho-yah. Don't forget to make your own too, let's have a chat near my desk."</p><p>All the doubts inside Myungho's mind are brushed off like it has been cleansed with something precious, and the younger boy smiles for the first time that day. He walks through the aisle and finds the coffee for both him and his mentor. He keeps on holding his smile, knowing that the other publishers in this office are known as a bunch of real assholes, but not with this one. Sure, the man might get all serious and worked up only when something bothers him in his work and that's why the Chinese intern tries his best not to rile him up, but eitherway, the man is a nice person. and Myungho just hopes that this man knows how much important his own life is. He's loved, Myungho wants to assure him this, but he doesn't know how to. Something is pulling his mentor not to tell more, and that forces Myungho to do the same. Always with bright grins and smiley eyes, but never with a hint of why he seems to lose his weight, never with a hint of why he forgets things a lot lately, never with a hint of his own life behind closed doors.</p>
<hr/><p>With the same outfit he wore that day, the man walks out of the building when the night comes. He waves his hand for a farewell to Myungho, they're both still standing right in front of the building. A sincere smile appears on his lips, and before he turns around completely, Myungho can't help but to run after him.</p><p>Only a second after, the gravity doesn't mind, and the man receives a genuine, warm hug.</p><p>"Hyung, thank you for your hardwork!"</p><p>The said man's lips and eyes almost shake, but he laughs it off and awkwardly pats Myungho's back. The fact that Myungho just called him  with honorifics confuses him. He tries his best to ignore how he had flashes relating to a certain apartment with a certain special boy hugging him, "woah, big guy, what's with the suddenㅡ"</p><p>Before he can finish his sentence, Myungho lets go, and walks into the other way. The mentor is perplexed, all emotions mash into one and he doesn't know how to act. He squints, furrowing his eyebrows a couple of times to lessen down the blurriness on his eyes. He walks home to the other way.</p>
<hr/><p>"Soonyoung, I'm homeㅡ"</p><p>He stops when he enters his own apartment, a gush of wind reminds him not to finish his sentence. He drops his bag to the cold tiles, why did he mention his name? A huge gravity pulls his throat to the ground, muting every syllable for the whole minute. His brain thinks hard, a reminder starts to dictate itself like a language translator and now tears drop to his cheeks. His lips shakes, and it frowns, he opens his arms and clings into his boyfriend's body, and he sobs. For two years, he holds his own composure steady. But Jihoon was once a five year old, too. He can cry if he misses someone if he wants to. He can hug them for hours if he wants to. But he still doesn't know how the gravity finally lets him hug Soonyoung, standing there on the living room with his annoying smile, but that doesn't matter. It doesn't matter to Jihoon, really.</p><p>"Shh, hey- hey, it's okay, it's me."</p><p>The younger sobs more when he feels soft pats on his back, <em>no, no, this isn't you</em><em>.</em> <em>You're not real. </em>It can't be the one who saved Jihoon from all the bullying issues when he was seven, it can't be the one who gets to be Jihoon's one and only best friend throughout high school and college, it can't be his own boyfriend, it just can't be Soonyoung who left Jihoon all alone in this small world in the end. Jihoon shakes his head and he feels exhausted just from two minutes of sobbing and the soft kisses on the top of his head. Jihoon is tired, two years are too much for him and the more he notices this, the more he wants to quit fast.</p><p>"Why," Jihoon stops his sentence and his mind rushes into other questions, snots and tears are collected on the left side of the taller's chest, "I'm s- so so tired, Soonie. You're ta- king too, long. I thought you're gonna, gonna- gonna come backㅡ"</p><p>"I know, baby, I know. Listen to me, yeah?"</p><p>Jihoon looks up slowly with blurriness spreading around everywhere his vision, and he might not see how there are tears on Soonyoung's eyes too. The older one cups Jihoon's cheeks gently as if he's a porcelain doll, and starts to kiss the boy's damp peach lips just for three seconds or four, and Jihoon giggles through his own tears when Soonyoung pulls away. He hiccups, tears stream down more and he just misses that same warm lips so, so much. The older one wipes the wet spots away from Jihoon's flushes cheeks, and hugs him again.</p><p>"You've worked hard, Jihoon-ah."</p><p>The said boy closes his eyes more, accepting the embrace even tighter and he lets his cries flow freely. The frown on his lips twitches, and he can't handle the headache, "don't say that."</p><p>Soonyoung chuckles from the soft whine coming from his boyfriend, "no, Jihoon-ah, believe me. You did so well. You worked hard, and I'm proud of you for it, yeah? Do you believe me? I knowㅡ"</p><p>Soonyoung almost chokes out a sob, "I know it seems like troubles have come all around, I know your wheels- have stopped turning but you went through all of that, alone, Ji. I wasn't even there at the first place, and you did it. I know gravity failed and you had to go through all those pain, but that doesn't matter. You've worked hard and- God, believe me when I say everyone who knew you, loved you too. You are loved here, and I do love you so much as well. Okay? Yeah, Ji? Can you hear me?"</p><p>Jihoon nods.</p><p>"And now that you've worked hard, it's time for you to rest. You can rest, baby. Hm? How does that sound?"</p><p>He nods, laughing through the tears and he sniffs in Soonyoung's signature scent, "I'm gonna miss Minghao."</p><p>Soonyoung pulls away a bit from the hug, and looks at the younger with wide eyes, "Oh? Who's Minghao?"</p><p>Jihoon swallows down the rest of his hiccups and smiles, "he's my intern from China, he loves americano a lot."</p><p>The older one smiles back, and messes Jihoon's damp hair just to play around with him and right at that moment, Jihoon knows he's <em>safe. </em>"It's okay, Ji. I'm sure you're gonna meet each other again, someday. Not now, of course. Some other day."</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>And for the first time ever, Jihoon doesn't let things fasten their pace up when he notices Soonyoung. For the first time ever, Jihoon takes things slow and he can fly up and down slowly as if Newton's law of gravity doesn't exist.</p><p>For the first time ever, Gravity finally lets him go.</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Lee Jihoon, 26 years old, 2016 April 16th, 21:17. Died due to a traffic collision two years after his lover's death in the Sewol Ferry disaster. </b>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I once read this tweet saying "depression isn't always about crying at nights, not wanting to talk to people, or feeling sad all the time. depression can always be about smiling and laughing with friends, going to work, walking back home, and then sleep like nothing happened" or something around that, and this also relies so much to this fic. What Jihoon faced here is just as normal as any other people (but no one deserves it),  what's not healthy is that he didn't get to tell people he trusts about how he's feeling. Sure, he had a therapist, but with gravity!jihoon, he had the decision to not talk too much about it when he should've at least not kept it all inside for a little too long. If he doesn't trust the therapist, he could've told it to Minghao whom he implicitly said that he's actually close with him, it's just that Jihoon doubted things a lot which was an unhealthy decision.  Please, you beautiful kids, reach out to people you fully trust. You can do it, and you've done well, just like Jihoon.</p><p>ㅡ also, did you guess the main character right? I purposely made it look like it can be Soonyoung or Jihoon at first, congratulations for those who got it right!</p><p>ㅡ I also wrote this to show respect for both the victims and families that had their beloved family members or kids tragically died or went missing from the Sewol incident, may they rest in peace. I hope that their families are given with great fortitude, and that they can accept our heartfelt sympathies on the loss of their loved ones.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>